


Unexpected

by meesherbeans



Series: The Inquisitor and Her Commander [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attraction, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meesherbeans/pseuds/meesherbeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a quiet conversation the night before they set off to seal the Breach, Cullen begins to realize there's more to his feelings for the Herald beyond respect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

"I'd…like to thank you. For all the conversations we've had. For telling me what it was like being a templar."

The light from the nearby torch dances, her red hair flickering as if crowned with flame. I've never noticed it before, but she is particularly attractive in the twilight.

My fingers dig in deeper into my mug; I shouldn't be thinking such things. Even if she was to reciprocate – and I am quite sure she would _not_ – it wouldn't be appropriate for either of us to try and connect on any level beyond advisor/advisee. There is too much at stake.

I tear my eyes away, looking over Haven and to the mountains beyond. It's bloody cold here, but you can't beat the view. "You're welcome."

Comfortable silence wafts between us, mingling among the light snowfall. A surprised laugh makes its way toward me, and I force myself to take a sip of water to hide a smile. Her laugh is musical, marvelous.

"I'm sorry." She turns and steps around me, heading toward the other side of the balcony, away from the torch. My body twists to watch, curious. What is she doing? Is there someone nearby? I quickly scan the grounds below; near-empty at this hour. Hmm.

I can't quite help the concern leaking into my voice; hopefully nothing's wrong. "Sorry for what?"

Dark hands twist in the dim light, blue eyes narrowing in thought. "I… I laughed because I just realized that I completely misjudged you. I'm sorry."

Well, that's not what I was expecting.

"I…" What does someone say to that? There's only one thing _to_ say, I suppose.

"Thank you." My hip leans against the railing and I reach to scratch the back of my neck. Stupid fur undershirt; it's necessary to keep me warm, but it's damn itchy sometimes. "I find myself curious how you misjudged me. If you don't mind my asking."

The way her lips quirk into a smile makes my heart skip a beat. "I suppose that's a fair question. When we first met… May I make a confession?"

"Of course." I dip my chin to affirm, not that she can see it, and take the opportunity to admire her tattoos while she's not looking my way. I wonder if the shine they take on in the moonlight is intentional or not.

"When we first met after stabilizing the Breach, you may not have noticed or don't remember, busy as we all were, but when you said that you were a templar…" She shifts nervously and catches my eye before I can divert my gaze. "I…took a step back."

Guilt is etched on her face, and she looks toward the mountains again. Did she really take a step back then? She's right about one thing: I definitely don't _remember_ that. The day she stabilized the Breach was a pretty bad day for me, though. I can barely recall any of it beyond the withdrawal pains.

I sigh and move to set the mug of water on the railing behind me. If she did step back, I can't really blame her. Templars don't exactly have a stellar reputation at the moment, and on top of that, she's Dalish. I can only _imagine_ what their stories of the warrior "mage hunters" entail.

"It's alright. I can understand some suspicion."

Red hair shakes and she moves to stand in front of me. "No, it's not alright. All I've been taught told me I should have run on the spot, but that was unfair to you. You did nothing to warrant my suspicion, and now that I know you a bit better, you're…"

My heart leaps to my throat as her voice softens.

"You're a good man."

I try and clear my throat, but it's too late. Her eyes are captivating: a soft blue, almost glowing in the torch's light. "I…try, Herald. Thank you for saying such."

She laughs that small, wonderful laugh again and I have to force _myself_ to take a step back, covering it as a reach for my water. Clearly being around her after dusk is a mistake. Thank the Maker for small mercies; she also twists to lean her forearms on the balcony railing, looking down toward the ground below.

"Cullen, I don't call you 'Commander.' Please… I know you believe in the Maker, but please don't call me 'Herald.' I'm just Vanawyn Lavellan, heathen apostate and elf."

It never occurred to me that she would be uncomfortable being called Herald.

…And why not, now that I'm thinking about it? She's Dalish! Here we are – here _I_ am – calling her the Herald of Andraste, a prophet she probably knows next to nothing about, only moments after her calling me a good man.

I can't stop a sigh from escaping my lips as I lean both arms on the rail in front of me as well. Of _course_ she doesn't want to be called the Herald. "I'm sorry, I had never… It's more a title than anything, and I don't know if the rest of the Inquisition will stop using it. However, I will not use it again. I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Cullen." Her face turns, illuminated in the moonlight, a genuine but gentle smile shining toward me. She is so stunning. "I don't expect everyone to stop referring to me as such, but I hope that at least my trusted advisors can address me as a friend, instead."

"I would be honored to call you a friend." I finally allow myself to be caught by her gaze, taking a selfish moment to get lost in her eyes. "Vanawyn."

This is dangerous territory; it's obvious I'm smitten with her after mere months of working together, but I can't lead her on, if she even feels the same way. Distraction could be deadly. We have a Breach to close tomorrow morning, and Maker only knows what will happen after. Regardless of if we succeed or fail, everything will be different. Either we'll be at the head of an Inquisition needing new direction, or we'll be dead. Both options are…troubling to consider.

I push myself to stand straight again, reaching to keep my scabbard from swinging too wildly. "We should probably get some rest; tomorrow is going to be…something."

"Something, indeed." She finally releases me from her regard and squares her shoulders, taking a deep breath and releasing it in a delicate cloud of white. "I pray what we've gathered is enough to seal it. Be…careful tomorrow, Cullen."

As if I had any other mode than 'careful.' As usual, though, she is the one who will be in serious danger; I do admit a small amount of worry over that. I nod and give her a small, respectful bow. "You as well, Vanawyn. Good night."

Her "good night" follows me into the Chantry as I take my leave. Quickly. I should go pray; not only for our success tomorrow, but to try and meditate on what it is I'm feeling for her. Every time our eyes meet, I lose most of my senses, and that is not good. Perhaps meditation on the Chant will calm my mind. Let me refocus on what's important.

If not, Maker help me.


End file.
